


trouble is my head won't let me forget

by fleurmatisse



Series: west virginia, mountain mama [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, can't write a makeout sesh without feelings, mentions of past injury/scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 23:37:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17611220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurmatisse/pseuds/fleurmatisse
Summary: Dean skims his fingers across the knot of scar tissue above his hip and he freezes.





	trouble is my head won't let me forget

Castiel has a multitude of scars. Some have even migrated bodies with him. He got in the habit, starting while he was still ‘on the run,’ of wearing long sleeves buttoned all the way up to cover them, even in the height of summer. Now that he has his grace back, it’s a much more tolerable habit but an even harder one to break. He didn’t notice how ingrained it had become until Dean skims his fingers across the knot of scar tissue above his hip and he freezes.

Dean stops touching him. “Too much?”

Castiel pushes out a breath, brushing his hand over his shirt where the scar lays hidden. It’s been years since that skin was open and bleeding. Years since someone stitched it closed. 

“I’m fine,” he decides. He smiles to assuage Dean’s concern, uses the hand still at the back of Dean’s neck to pull him close again. Dean’s hands stay outside his clothes, but even with a shirt between his hand and Castiel’s shoulder blade, Castiel twitches. He extracts himself from Dean’s hold this time, pacing away while Dean remains against the counter. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why that’s bothering me so much.”

“You don’t have to apologize for being uncomfortable,” Dean says. 

Castiel breathes some more and doesn’t look at Dean. “It’s scars,” he says. He glances over; Dean is frowning. “I guess I’m not used to them being touched.”

The shoulders especially—they still burn sometimes, whether it’s just a sense memory or lingering grace.

“I’ll just have to touch you somewhere else then,” Dean says, startling Castiel into a laugh. Dean detaches from the counter. “You could always touch my scars instead.”

Castiel catches his next laugh to roll his eyes. “I bet you say that to all the guys.”

“And the girls,” Dean says, wrapping an arm around Castiel’s waist as he presses a kiss to Castiel’s cheek. “Wouldn’t want to discriminate.”

“Heaven forbid,” Castiel says, flat, and Dean laughs. He has too much nervous energy to do anything more than lean into Dean’s side. Dean’s stomach growls, loud and insistent. Castiel laughs again at Dean’s surprise. “You must be late for dinner.”

Dean lets go of Castiel to grab his jacket off the hook by the door. He pulls out his phone and grimaces. “And I missed a few texts from Sam. Apparently we’re the only hunters close to Davella, Kentucky.”

“Monster hunting waits for no man,” Castiel says, overly serious.

“It’ll wait for this man to eat first,” Dean says just as seriously. He kisses Castiel a quick goodbye. “I’ll call you later.”

Castiel follows him onto the porch and shuts the door before the dogs he can hear scrambling can get out to run under Dean’s tires. “I’ll be waiting by the phone. Desolate. Lonely.”

“Yeah, try not to wither away without me,” Dean says, pausing with his car door open to shake his head at Castiel, who smiles and goes back inside as Dean backs away. The dogs have started a chorus of offended barking. Castiel silences them with treats. They behaved through most of Dean’s visit; they deserve a reward. 

**Author's Note:**

> if i end it with the dogs getting treats, that eliminates any of the previous angst, right?


End file.
